Dragon s lair

Philippe for royal signets could be forged, but only John knew to look for thering that had once encircled the French king’s own finger.‘Give me your lantern, Durand,’ John said, reachin

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To my father

Prologue

July 1193

Nottingham Castle, England

The English king was dying Despite the bone-biting chill of the dungeon, hewas drenched in sweat, and so gaunt and wasted that his brother barelyrecognized him His skin was ashen, his eyes sunken, and his chest heavedwith each rasping, shallow breath Even the vivid reddish-gold hair wasdulled, so matted and dirty that vermin were burrowing into the scalp oncegraced by a crown Would their lady mother still be so eager to cradle thatlice-ridden head to her breast?

As if sensing he was no longer alone, Richard struggled to rise on anelbow, rheumy, bloodshot eyes blinking into the shadows The voice thatonce could shout down the wind, that had been heard from one corner ofChristendom to the other even when he whispered, now emerged as a feeblecroak ‘John ?’

‘Yes.’ Stepping into the meagre light of the lone candle, John savoured themoment to come Had fortune’s wheel ever spun as dizzily as this? The ironywas exquisite, that the brother so scorned and belittled should be Richard’sonly chance of salvation ‘What would you, brother? You wish for a doctor?

A priest? A king’s ransom?’ The corner of John’s mouth curved, ever soslightly ‘You need only ask, Richard But ask you must.’

Richard stretched out a stranger’s hand, one that trembled as if he had thepalsy, palm upward in the universal gesture of supplication John reached for

it reluctantly, for it would be like clasping hands with a corpse Their fingerstouched, then entwined As John instinctively recoiled, Richard tightened hishold There was surprising strength in this deathbed grip: to his alarm, Johnfound he could not break free Richard’s fingers were digging into his flesh,leaving talon-like imprints upon his skin So close were they that John couldsmell on his brother’s breath the fetid stench of the grave, and his eyes were

as grey as their sire’s, burning with fever and an inexplicable gleam oftriumph

‘Rot in Hell, little brother,’ Richard said, slowly and distinctly ‘Rot inHell!’

John jerked upright, so violently that his bedmate was jarred abruptly from

sleep Ursula felt a surge of drowsy annoyance, for this was not the first timethat John had awakened her with one of his troubled dreams She was not sonạve as to complain, though, indulging herself only with a soft, put-uponsigh and a pout safely hidden in the dark.

As the German dungeon receded before the reality of his bedchamber,John began to swear, angrily and profanely Why had that accursed dreamcome back? It made no sense, for Richard was not being held in irons: thelast report had him being well treated now that negotiations had begun for hisrelease Nor would he ever be Richard’s deliverance, not in this life or thenext Each time he remembered Richard’s taunt, his blood grew hot and hisnerves hummed with hate Upon being warned that his brother was scheming

to claim his crown, Richard had merely laughed ‘My brother John,’ he’dsaid, ‘is not the man to conquer a country if there is anyone to offer evenfeeble resistance.’

John cursed again, feeling such rage that he could almost have chokedupon it Richard’s mockery trailed him like a ravenous wolf It was alwaysthere, hungry yellow eyes aglow in the dark, awaiting its chance

When he finally fell asleep again, his dreams were still unsettled and hetossed and turned so restlessly that Ursula heaved another martyred sigh andput as much space between them as the bed would allow John rolled over on

to his back and stopped squirming, but then he began to snore and Ursulaconceded defeat

She slid out of bed, padded across the chamber and drained the last of thewine from John’s night flagon A young squire slept soundly nearby, and shewas tempted to fling the flagon into the floor rushes by his pallet, begrudginghim the sleep that was denied her She reconsidered, though, unwilling to riskwaking John She stubbed her toe getting back into bed and added yet anothergrievance to her ever-expanding hoard of wrongs

Most men looked peaceful in their sleep and younger, too, unfettered byearthly cares But not John Studying him dispassionately, she decided helooked haunted, and older than his twenty-and-six years She supposed mostwomen would consider him handsome, even if he was the dark one in a fairfamily, for he had his mother’s finely chiselled cheekbones and expressivemouth His eyes were deep-set under black brows, fringed with surprisinglylong lashes, and his hair was thick, as glossy as a raven’s wing If she’d beeninclined to entwine a strand round her fingers – which she wasn’t – she knew

it would be clean and soft to the touch: one of his quirks was an enjoyment of

bathing She had been taken aback at first, thinking it wasn’t quite manly, butshe’d soon come to appreciate the benefits: he did not stink like the othermen who’d shared her bed and her favours.

John had once told her that he liked to watch people unaware Regardinghim now, as he slept, Ursula understood the appeal: there was a vulnerabilityabout someone who did not know he was under observation He’d stoppedsnoring, and she settled down beside him, closed her eyes and crossed herfingers It was then that the pounding started, as loud as summer thunder,chasing away the mice scurrying about in the floor rushes and any hope ofsleep

John sat up in alarm ‘Holy Mother, what now?’ Ursula groaned and puther pillow over her head The squire was sleepily stumbling towards the door.They could hear the murmur of voices, then the door was shoved back andDurand de Curzon pushed aside the squire and strode into the chamber

John’s protest died in his throat, for Durand’s presence validated theintrusion The tall, swaggering knight was one of the few men he trusted withsome of his secrets Durand was carrying a lantern and his face was partiallyilluminated by its swaying pale light He looked as he always did: self-possessed, capable and faintly sardonic But John knew his demeanour wouldhave been no different if he’d come to deliver word of Armageddon

‘Are you going to tell me why you’re in my chamber in the middle of thenight, Durand, or must I guess?’

Durand shrugged off the sarcasm ‘A messenger has ridden in, my lord,bearing a letter for you from the king of the French.’

John often received communications from the French king They wereallies of expediency, united in their shared loathing of his brother theLionheart It was from Philippe that John had first learned of Richard’splight: captured by his enemies on his way home from the Crusade andturned over to the dubious mercies of the Holy Roman Emperor But he’dnever received a message so urgent it could not wait till daylight

‘I’ll see him,’ he said tersely

The man was already being ushered into the chamber His travel-stainedclothes told a tale of their own, as did his bleary eyes and the involuntarygrunt he gave as he sank to his knees before the bed He held out a parchmentthreaded through with cord and sealed with wax, but John’s gaze went first tohis ring It was a silver band gilded in gold leaf, set with a large amethyst cutinto octagonal facets, corroboration that the courier indeed came from

Philippe for royal signets could be forged, but only John knew to look for thering that had once encircled the French king’s own finger.

‘Give me your lantern, Durand,’ John said, reaching for the letter Asimpatient as he was to read Philippe’s message, he still took the time toexamine the seal, making sure that it had not been tampered with Durandobserved this with a flicker of grim humour; he had been sure that Johnwould do exactly that He studied John as a church scholar studied HolyScriptures, for a misstep might mean his doom

As John frowned over the letter, Durand sauntered to the table, found flintand tinder and struck sparks until he was able to ignite the wick of a largewax candle When John raised his head to demand more light, Durand wasalready there, holding out the candlestick He took the opportunity to appraiseJohn’s bedmate at close range, his gaze moving appreciatively over thevoluptuous curves so inadequately draped in the thin linen sheet

Ursula was aware of his intimate scrutiny but made no attempt to coverherself, regarding him with an indifference that pricked his pride

Durand could not make up his mind about her Was it that she was toojaded to care about anything but her own comfort, disenchanted anddistrustful? Or was it merely that she was dull-witted, a woman blessed withsuch a lush, desirable body that the Almighty had decided she had no need ofbrains, too?

Durand had flirted with her occasionally, if only to alleviate the boredomwhen they were trapped at the siege of Windsor Castle, but to no avail, andhe’d soon decided that she was a selfish bitch and likely dumb as a post Hewould not have lain with her if she’d been panting for it He’d concludedlong ago that John’s sense of possession was even stronger than his sense ofentitlement Still, the risk had its own appeal, separate and apart fromUrsula’s carnal charms He’d learned at an early age that danger could be asseductive as any whore Irked by Ursula’s blank, impassive gaze, he strippedher with his eyes, slowly and deliberately By God, she was ripe Would ittruly matter if her head was filled with sawdust? All cats were grey in thedark

Belatedly becoming aware of John’s silence, he glanced towards theyounger man and all lustful thoughts were banished at the sight of John’sashen face Durand held no high opinion of Queen Eleanor’s youngest son

He thought John was too clever by half and as contrary and unpredictable asthe winds in Wales But he did not doubt John’s courage: treason was not for

the faint of heart So he was startled now to see John so obviously shaken.What dire news was in the French king’s letter?

‘My lord? You look like a man who’s just heard there was hemlock in hiswine What is amiss?’

John continued to stare down at the letter A muscle was twitching faintly

in his cheek and the hand resting on his knee had clenched into a fist Justwhen Durand decided that he was not going to respond, he glanced up, eyesglittering and opaque ‘Read it for yourself.’

Many men would not have been able to meet that challenge, but Durandwas literate in both French and Latin As he approached the bed, John thrustthe letter at him like a knife He did not flinch He took the parchment in onehand, the lantern in the other, then stepped back so he could read it

The French king’s seal had been broken when John had unthreaded thecord and unfolded the letter There was no salutation, no signature, just eightwords scrawled across the middle of the page, written in such haste that theink had bled before it dried, blotted so carelessly that a smudged fingerprintcould be seen

‘Look to yourself for the Devil is loosed.’

I

July 1193

Westminster, England

Walking in the gardens of the royal palace on a sultry, overcast summerafternoon, Claudine de Loudun recognized for the first time that she fearedthe queen This should not have been surprising to her, for the queen inquestion was Eleanor, Dowager Queen of England, Duchess of Aquitaine,one-time Queen of France Burning as brightly as a comet in her youth,Eleanor had shocked, fascinated and outraged, a beautiful, wilful womanwho’d wed two kings, taken the cross, given birth to ten children, and dared

to lust after power as a man might She’d survived scandal, heartbreak andinsurrection, even sixteen years as her husband Henry’s prisoner

The older Eleanor was wiser and less reckless, a woman who’d learned toweigh both words and consequences Her ambitions had always beendynastic, and in her twilight years she was expending all of her considerableintelligence, political guile and tenacity in the service of her son Richard Shewas respected now, even revered in some quarters, for her sound advice andpragmatic understanding of statecraft Few appreciated the irony – that thiswoman who’d lived much of her life as a royal rebel should be acclaimed as astabilizing influence upon the brash, impulsive Richard

To outward appearances, it seemed that the aged queen had repudiated thecarefree and careless girl she’d once been, but Claudine knew better.Eleanor’s tactics had changed, not her nature She was worldly, curious,utterly charming when she chose to be, prideful, stubborn, calculating, andstill hungry for all that life had to offer She had a remarkable memoryuntainted by age, and although she might forgive wrongs, she never forgotthem As Claudine was belatedly acknowledging, she could be a formidableenemy

Claudine was not a fool, even if she had done more than her share offoolish things It was not that she’d underestimated the queen, but rather thatshe’d overestimated her own ability to swim in such turbulent waters It hadseemed harmless enough in the beginning What did it matter if she sharedcourt gossip and rumours with the queen’s youngest son? She had seen it as agame, not a betrayal, just as she’d seen herself as John’s confederate, not hisspy How had it all gone so wrong? She still was not sure But there was no

denying that the stakes had suddenly become life or death Richardlanguished in a German prison John was being accused of treason Thequeen was sick with fear for her eldest son and vowing vengeance upon thosewho would deny Richard his freedom And Claudine was in the worst plight

of all, pregnant and unwed, facing both the perils of the birthing chamber andthe danger of disgrace and scandal

She’d never worried about incurring Eleanor’s animosity before, confident

of her own power to beguile, putting too much trust in her blood ties to thequeen, distant though they might be But in this fragrant, trellised garden, shewas suddenly and acutely aware of how vulnerable she truly was It was such

a demoralizing realization that she quickly reminded herself of howunderstanding the queen had been about her pregnancy She’d feared thatEleanor would turn her out, letting all know of her shame Instead, she hadoffered to help Why, then, did she feel such unease?

She glanced sideways at the other woman, and then away She’d oftenthought the queen had cat eyes, greenish-gold and inscrutable, eyes thatseemed able to see into the inner recesses of her soul, to strip away hersecrets, one by one Claudine bit her lip, keeping her own eyes downcast, forshe had many secrets

Eleanor was aware of the young woman’s edginess and it afforded hersome grim satisfaction She bore Claudine no grudge for allowing herself tobecome entangled in John’s web; she’d experienced too many betrayals inher life to be wounded by one so small And so once she’d discoveredClaudine’s complicity in her son’s scheming, she’d been content to keep thatknowledge secret, reasoning that a known spy was a defanged snake She’deven used the unwitting Claudine to pass on misinformation from time totime But if she felt no desire for vengeance, neither did she sympathize withClaudine’s predicament Every pleasure in this world came with a price, be it

a dalliance in conspiracy or in bed

Glancing about to make sure none of her other attendants was withinearshot, Eleanor asked the girl if she was still queasy When Claudineswallowed and swore that she no longer felt poorly, Eleanor scrutinized hersceptically ‘Why, then, is your face the colour of newly skimmed milk?There is no need to pretend with me, child Only men could call a pregnancy

“easy”, but some are undoubtedly more troublesome than others For me, itwas my last There were days when even water could unsettle my stomach.I’ve sailed in some fierce storms but, God’s truth, I was never so greensick as

when I was carrying John.’

Claudine’s eyelashes flickered, no more than that, but she could not keepthe blood from rising in her face and throat Watching as her pallor wassubmerged under a flood of colour, Eleanor smiled slyly This was new, like

an involuntary twitch or a hiccup, Claudine’s sudden discomfort wheneverJohn’s name was mentioned Not for the first time, Eleanor wondered whohad truly fathered Claudine’s child Was it Justin de Quincy, as she claimed?

of empathy: she knew better than most the onus of confinement It was truethat this one was by choice, and temporary, but Eleanor could not helpidentifying with Claudine’s aversion to the religious life There had beentimes in her past when she’d feared being shut up in some remote, obscureconvent for the rest of her days, forgotten by all but her gaolers and God

‘I will speak with Sir Nicholas this eve,’ she said briskly, determined not tosoften towards the foolhardy, unhappy girl ‘The arrangements have all beenmade It remains only for you to settle in at Godstow.’

‘Sir Nicholas de Mydden?’ Claudine echoed in dismay ‘But Justin was toescort me to the nunnery.’

‘Justin cannot –’

‘Madam, he promised me!’ Claudine was so flustered that she did not evenrealize she’d interrupted the queen Lowering her voice hastily lest theyattract attention, she said coaxingly, ‘Surely you understand why I wouldprefer Justin’s company, Your Grace I know I can trust him And and hewants to accompany me This child is his, after all.’

Eleanor looked into Claudine’s flushed, distraught face, striving forpatience ‘Well, this is one promise Justin cannot keep He is away from thecourt, and I know not when he will return As for Nicholas, he is nogossipmonger.’ She was unable to resist adding, ‘Those in my service knowthe value I place upon loyalty.’

Claudine’s lashes fluttered down again, veiling her eyes After a moment,

she said meekly, ‘Forgive my boldness, Madam It was not my intent to arguewith you If you have confidence in Sir Nicholas’s discretion, then so do I.But could I not wait till week’s end? Mayhap Justin will be back by then.’She took Eleanor’s shrug for assent and fell in step beside her as they cutacross the grassy mead ‘I did not even know Justin was gone, for he did notbid me farewell.’

She sounded both plaintive and aggrieved, and Eleanor found herselfthinking that Justin might be fortunate that he was not considered a suitablehusband for her pampered young kinswoman It would be no easy task,keeping Claudine de Loudun content

‘Madam it is not my intent to pry,’ Claudine said, with such piousprevarication that Eleanor rolled her eyes skyward ‘Whatever Justin’smission for you may be, it is not for me to question it I would ask this,though Can you at least tell me if he is in any danger?’

Eleanor paused, considering Her first impulse was to give the girl thereassurance she sought But the truth was that whenever her son John wasinvolved, there was bound to be danger

It was a sparse turnout for a hanging Usually the citizens of Winchesterthronged to the gallows on the Andover road, eager to watch as a felon paidthe ultimate price for his earthly sins Luke de Marston, the under-sheriff ofHampshire, could remember hangings that rivalled the St Giles Fair, withvendors hawking meat pies, children getting underfoot and cutpurses on theprowl for unwary victims But the doomed soul being dragged from the cartwas too small a fish to attract a large crowd, a criminal by happenstancerather than choice

The few men and women who’d bothered to come were furtherdisappointed by the demeanour of the culprit They expected bravado anddefiance from their villains or, at the very least, stoical self-control But thisprisoner was obviously terrified, whimpering and trembling so violently that

he had to be assisted up the gallows steps People were turning away indisgust even before the rope was tightened round his neck

Luke’s deputy shared their dissatisfaction: he believed that a condemnedman owed his audience a better show than this ‘Pitiful,’ he said, shaking hishead in disapproval ‘Remember how the Fleming died, cursing God with hislast breath?’

Luke remembered Gilbert the Fleming had been one of Winchester’s most

notorious outlaws, as brutal as he was elusive, evading capture again andagain until he’d been brought down by Luke and the queen’s man Justin deQuincy His hanging had been a holiday.

‘Luke.’

The voice was familiar, but it should have been seventy-two miles away inLondon Spinning round to face de Quincy, Luke scowled, for the youngerman’s sudden materialization was unsettling, coming as it did just as he’dbeen thinking of him ‘Sometimes, de Quincy, I think you do it on purpose.’Justin was not put off by Luke’s brusque welcome While they’d startedout as adversaries, they’d soon become allies, united in their common desire

to ensnare Gilbert the Fleming ‘Do what?’

‘Appear like this in a puff of blue smoke and scare the daylights out of me

If I did not know better, I’d suspect you were a warlock instead of aharbinger of evil tidings.’

Justin couldn’t argue with that: he and Luke shared a past marked bymurder, mayhem and treason ‘I’m here,’ he said, ‘to invite you to join ahunt.’

Luke regarded him warily ‘And just what are we hunting this time?’

‘Our usual quarry,’ Justin admitted ‘The one we track by following thescent of brimstone.’

The port of Southampton lay just twelve miles to the south of Winchester and

it was still daylight when Luke and Justin reined in at the Bargate, a squarestone tower that guarded the northern entrance into the city

‘Do you not think it is time,’ Luke declared abruptly, ‘that you were moreforthcoming? Suppose you do find John here What then? We cannot verywell arrest him by ourselves, and I do not fancy arresting him at all, not whenthe man might well be king one day This seems a long way to come merely

to verify a rumour, de Quincy I’d wager you have something else in mind,and naturally you are loath to share it with me I’ve known holy hermits thatwere more talkative than you You need not confide every last detail of yourbattle plan, but I want more than you’ve given me so far.’

Justin knew Luke would not be mollified with less than the truth, or at least

a goodly portion of it ‘I’ve not misled you,’ he insisted ‘The queen wants

me to confirm that John is in Southampton, making ready to sail for France.But you’re right and there is more to it than that The queen has a spy inJohn’s service This may be the last chance he has to convey any messages to

her, and since I am the only one who knows of his mission, I am also the onlyone who can seek him out ere they sail.’

Luke was not about to ask for a name He knew Justin would not tell him.Nor did he truly want to know: he’d learned long ago that Scripture was rightand ‘He that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow’, at least when theknowledge was as dangerous as the identity of the queen’s spy in her son’shousehold Instead, he concentrated upon the logistics of Justin’s mission,suggesting that they search the docks first and find out which ships werepreparing for the Channel crossing That made sense to Justin and they split

up soon after they’d passed through the Bargate, Luke heading for the castlequay and Justin continuing down English Street

Turning on to the Fleshambles, where the city butchers had their shops,Justin was dismayed to see so many people still out and about He remindedhimself, though, that John was not a man to pass unnoticed The streets werenarrow, crowded with passers-by, and Justin had to keep ducking to avoidsagging ale-poles and the overhang of buildings extending into the roadway.When he saw a smithy close by the fishmongers’ market, he hastilydismounted and soon struck a bargain with the blacksmith: a few coins inexchange for a stall for his stallion in the man’s stable

He decided to search the docks next and turned into the first alley that ledtowards the river It was not much wider than the length of his sword and hehad to squeeze past a couple who’d ducked into the alley for a quick sexualencounter The man was too preoccupied to notice Justin, grunting andthrusting with such force that the woman’s body was being slammed againstthe wall; she made no protest, gazing over her partner’s shoulder at Justinwith indifferent, empty eyes She was so young, though – barely old enough

to have started her flux – that Justin felt a flicker of pity as he detoured roundthem Luke would have called him a softhearted dolt – and often did – butJustin had a foundling’s instinctive sympathy for the downtrodden, God’spoor, the lost, the doomed and the abandoned He saw no harm in offering up

a brief prayer for the soul of this child-woman selling her body in aSouthampton alley

As he emerged from the alley, Justin came upon a lively waterfront scene.There were a few ships moored at the quays, but the larger vessels wereanchored out in the harbour Several small lighters were shuttling back andforth between these ships and the docks, where sailors and passengersmingled with vendors and merchants came to supervise the unloading of their

cargo Although Vespers had sounded over an hour ago, the crew of a Frenchcog was still hard at work, using a block and tackle to transfer wine tuns into

a waiting lighter The casks were heavy and unwieldy and one was balanced

so precariously that Justin would normally have lingered to watch But now

he gave it only a glance, for his attention had been drawn to a cluster of dressed men gathered on the West Quay

well-Stepping back into the mouth of the alley so he could observe withoutbeing seen, Justin had no difficulty in picking out the queen’s son Thehighborn were always a magnet for every eye, even in these dubiouscircumstances, and John was surrounded by the curious, the hopeful and thehungry Pedlars cried out their wares, ships’ masters jockeyed for position asthey offered the hire of their vessels, and beggars huddled in the outermostring of the circle, kept at a distance by hard-faced men in chainmail Justinfound himself wondering what it would be like to live his life on centre stage,like an actor in one of the Christmas plays John would never be a supportingplayer: for him, it must be the lead role or nothing

John started to walk towards the alley and Justin withdrew further into it,thinking that the first part of his mission – finding the queen’s son – had beeneasy enough to accomplish But Durand de Curzon was as slippery as aconger eel and not even a forked stick would be enough to pin him down.Justin still remembered his shock upon the discovery that Durand was notJohn’s ‘tame wolf’ but Eleanor’s He had never loathed anyone as much as hedid Durand, and it vexed him no end to have to give the other man even asliver of respect He could not deny Durand’s courage, though, for if Johnever discovered his betrayal, death would come as a mercy

Justin was so intent upon his surveillance that he was slow to heed themuffled sounds behind him He did not swing round until he heard a choked-off scream At the end of the alley, the young prostitute was struggling to getaway from her customer She kicked him in the shin and almost broke free,but he caught the skirt of her gown, and when she stumbled, he shoved herback against the wall Justin took one step towards them, then halted His firstinstinct had been to go to the girl’s aid, but if he did he risked alerting John tohis presence This was none of his concern, after all Whores were used tobeing slapped around

But then the man backhanded her across the face and grabbed her throat.Justin spared a second for a regretful glance over his shoulder, then lungedforward He had no interest in fighting fair, only in fighting fast, and made

use of a manoeuvre he’d learned from a battle-scarred sergeant named Jonas.

He seized a handful of the man’s long, straggly hair and brought his fist downhard on the back of his neck It proved as effective in a Southampton alley as

it had in London’s mean streets: the man staggered, then sank to his knees,mouth ajar, eyes dazed and unfocused Snatching up a broken piece of wood,the girl swung it wildly at her assailant When it missed, she threw it asideand began to scream curses and abuse at him, revealing an impressivecommand of profanity for one so young ‘Gutter rat! Misbegotten devil’sspawn! Shit-eating sousepot, you tried to kill me!’

He gaped up at her, then lurched unsteadily to his feet ‘Lying bitch!’Blinking blearily at Justin, he showed no resentment, instead appealed tohim, man to man, ‘The little slut was going to rob me!’

‘You’re the liar, not me!’ She, too, addressed her complaints to Justin

‘This besotted, poxy bastard did not want to pay me!’

‘Filthy whore!’

‘Rutting swine!’

By now they were shouting loudly enough to awaken all but the dead, and

a large, curious crowd had gathered at the entrance to the alley Justin glared

at them ‘Shall I send for a bailiff?’ he asked coldly, and as he had expected,their rancour cooled considerably The girl flung one last curse over hershoulder, then disappeared into the throng of spectators Her accuser tried torecover some dignity by adjusting his dishevelled garments before he, too,made a hasty retreat Seeing that the show was over, their audience began todisperse, leaving Justin alone in the alley

Justin was disgusted with himself When would he learn to heed his head,not his heart? He had no rational hope that John would not have been drawn

by the uproar and he turned slowly and reluctantly, already sure of what hewould see As he feared, John and his men were blocking the alley

John was the most unpredictable man that Justin had ever known and heproved it now by reacting with amusement, not hostility He looked utterly atease, leaning against the wall, arms folded, eyes filled with laughter ‘Godlove you, de Quincy, but you are a source of constant wonderment,’ he said,with a grin that told Justin he knew exactly what had transpired in this alley

‘I can always rely upon you to be the veritable soul of chivalry Is it justknighthood you aspire to, or have you a craving for sainthood, too?’

While Justin usually had no trouble in laughing at himself, his sense ofhumour seemed to shut down whenever John was around ‘I’m gratified that I

was able to entertain you, my lord,’ he said drily ‘That makes my journey toSouthampton worthwhile.’

John’s grin flashed again ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘and I’ll buy you a drink ere

I sail You can even wave farewell from the quay if you choose.’

Justin submitted to this raillery with what grace he could muster Hefollowed John back towards the docks and into a riverside alehouse It waspoorly lit with reeking oil lamps, its floor deep in marsh rushes that looked as

if they’d not been changed since the reign of the current king’s father, itswooden benches splattered with dried mud and candlewax It was not the sort

of place where a man as high-born as John would usually be found, but Justinsuspected that John often turned up in unlikely surroundings

John was feeling generous and ordered ale for his men, too, even forseveral delighted customers He claimed a corner table and beckoned toJustin ‘Sit,’ he commanded, ‘and drown your chagrin in ale Once you’vetasted their brew, you’ll be willing to gulp down goat piss without flinching.So you intend to tell my lady mother about this chat of ours? That her loyalspy let himself be undone by a Southampton street whore?’

‘Yes,’ Justin said, so tersely that John had to hide his laughter in his alecup

‘What was I thinking? Of course you will tell her I daresay you’d go todaily confession if you could find a priest who’d stay awake during them.’Amused in spite of himself, Justin held up his hands in mock surrender ‘Iyield, my lord God has indeed cursed me with a conscience.’

John’s mouth twitched ‘I know you have questions, de Quincy, so askaway I might even answer one or two.’

‘I have no questions, my lord I am in Southampton to reassure the queenthat you got off safely for France It was her hope that you’d convey her goodwishes to the French king.’

This was the way their conversations usually went, verbal jousting thatreminded Justin of boyhood winters when he’d strapped on bone skates andventured out on to the newly frozen ice of Cheshire ponds Thrust and parry

He waited now for John’s counter-stroke, but the other man was gazing overhis shoulder to the door

‘It is about time you got here,’ John said

Justin caught a whiff of sandalwood perfume as a woman approached thetable She looked even more out of place in this seedy alehouse than Johndid, clad in a floor-length green mantle, her face framed in a white linen

wimple, her fingers adorned with rings that testified to John’s generosity.Justin recognized her at once as John’s concubine from the siege of Windsor,and started to rise.

Her manners had not improved since then: Justin might have been invisiblefor all the notice she took of him Gazing around her, she wrinkled her nose

in disgust ‘Must we wait for the tide in this hovel?’ She added a perfunctory

‘my lord’ in acknowledgement of the public setting, but it sounded neitherdeferential nor convincing She had not impressed Justin as a particularlylikeable woman, but she was undeniably desirable

He was wondering what she called John in the privacy of their bedchamberwhen a familiar voice sounded behind him ‘I did not think we’d ever gethere, my lord Mistress Ursula insisted upon stopping to view a streetpedlar’s wares ’ Durand’s complaint trailed off in surprise as his eyes came

to rest upon Justin ‘Damn me if you’re not the spitting image of a man Iknow back in London Of course, if you knew him, too, you’d take that as amortal insult, for de Quincy is the most self-righteous, irksome –’

‘It gladdens my heart to see you, too, Durand.’

‘What did I tell you lads about this unseemly squabbling?’ John said, in aperfect imitation of a father chastising his young sons He pushed back thebench, got to his feet and draped his arm round Ursula’s shoulders ‘Youmight as well finish my ale, Durand, if you can stomach drinking with deQuincy.’ His gaze flicked from Durand to Justin, his eyes guarded, utterly atvariance with his affectation of good-humoured nonchalance ‘Tell mymother,’ he said, ‘that I’ll be sure to pass on her regards to King Philippe.’John reached for his money pouch, spilled coins on to the table with thecasual largesse that was expected of the nobility – even one in his precariousstraits – and sauntered out, with Ursula in tow He did not look back

Durand swung a leg over the bench and picked up John’s ale cup as if hemeant to drink the contents As soon as John had left, he set it down with agrimace ‘I was wondering how you’d find me,’ he said, in a studied drawlthat grated on Justin’s nerves ‘It never occurred to me that you’d simply askJohn Now, why did I not think of that?’

‘It worked, did it not?’ Justin pointed out laconically He’d be damnedbefore he’d offer any explanations to Durand and he met the other man’sgaze evenly, refusing to take the bait

Durand knew from past encounters that Justin’s temper was easily kindledand he was sorely tempted to keep on until he’d struck some sparks But they

dared not linger in the alehouse without arousing John’s suspicions Leaningforward, he said softly, ‘The French king warned John that Richard has come

to terms with the Holy Roman Emperor and his release is nigh This newsalarmed him enough to send him racing for the coast and the first ship forFrance.’ He laughed soundlessly ‘Richard casts a long shadow, indeed, if themere prospect of his return can scare men half out of their wits It took John

an outlandishly long time to remember that even if brother Richard werereleased on the morrow, it would take him weeks to make his way back toEngland.’

Justin understood why Richard inspired such fear There was no greaterbattle commander in Christendom, and all knew he was a soldier first andforemost, only second a king ‘I grant you, John is not acting like a man inthe throes of panic So, if he knows the danger is not imminent, why is he still

in Southampton, making ready to sail?’

‘Once common sense took over, he realized that agreements are made to bebroken There is only one offer on the table so far What if the emperorwere promised even more money to keep Richard caged up in somegodforsaken German castle?’

‘He’d probably pounce upon it like a hungry weasel,’ Justin said slowly,and Durand grinned

‘Exactly John well knows that the emperor has the scruples of a pirate andthe honour of Well, let’s just say that the noble Heinrich makes John andPhilippe look like Heaven’s own angels He’d sell Richard in a heartbeat ifthe price were right.’

Justin nodded grimly This would be a bitter message to bring to his queen

At least she would be forewarned that a storm was brewing on the horizon.Shoving his ale cup aside, he rose to his feet and was faintly amused whenDurand immediately did the same: he’d never known another man so keen onsecuring each and every advantage, no matter how small or trivial ‘Is thatall?’

‘Is it not enough?’ Durand adjusted his scabbard, making sure that theweight of his sword was well balanced, then reached for his hat It had abroad brim, turned up at the back, a style Justin had not seen before, and was,doubtless, the newest fashion It always surprised him that a man as ruthlessand predatory as Durand de Curzon could also care about the petty concerns

of royal courtiers Some day he would have to resolve the mystery of thisbaneful, blood-hungry wolf, surely better suited to serving the Devil than

their queen.

Almost as if reading his thoughts, Durand said, with a cold smile, ‘Well, asone queen’s man to another, are you not going to wish me luck, de Quincy?’

He deserved it, Justin knew, and likely would need it, too ‘Go with God,’

he said, with equal coldness ‘And if we are both truly lucky, this will be thelast time we need lay eyes upon each other.’

Durand’s smile faded ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘but John will be back You canwager the kingdom on that.’

II

July 1193

Windsor Castle, England

Justin de Quincy had not been back at Windsor since that spring’s siege whenhe’d infiltrated the castle at the queen’s behest, his mission to convince John

to accept a truce He’d ended up shackled in a dungeon hell-hole, withDurand to thank for his awful accommodation, and although he’d eventuallysucceeded in his objective, his recollections of Windsor were not fond ones.Claudine did her best to replace them with more pleasant memories, sneakinghim into her chamber as soon as the rest of the household was abed But thenight’s daring, seductive rebel vanished with the coming of first light Uponwakening, Claudine was beset by morning sickness, low spirits, and aheightened fear of being found out

‘I am so sorry,’ she whispered, as Justin washed her face with a wet cloth

‘A woman’s lover ought not to have to hold a basin for her whilst she vomits–’

‘Do not be foolish,’ he said, and leaned over to kiss her forehead ‘Thepleasure was mutual, so it is only fair that the penance be mutual, too.’

He spoke in jest, but that was how Claudine viewed her pregnancy: aspenance She hated feeling so greensick and queasy She hated knowing thatshe’d soon be bloated, swollen and clumsy She hated having to hide herselfaway in a nunnery, dreading discovery Sometimes she hated the baby, too,this alien intruder who’d lain claim to her body and her life

He was stroking her hair, smoothing it away from her face, and she blinkedback tears ‘Do you think we will reach Oxford by nightfall, Justin?’

Oxford was not much more than thirty miles from Windsor, a distanceJustin could easily have covered in one day But they’d ridden only twenty-three miles yesterday and that had exhausted Claudine ‘I think so,’ he said,hoping he did not sound as doubtful as he felt, for travel accommodationcould not be left to chance, especially when his companion was gently bornand pregnant

Her thoughts had obviously been following the same route as his, for shesaid, with sudden determination, ‘We will just have to, won’t we? But wherewill we stay in Oxford? It was safe enough to spend the night here atWindsor, but I do not want it known that I was so close to the nunnery at

Godstow, for someone could connect gossip like that with my disappearancefrom court So that eliminates both the castle and the king’s house Nor can I

go to St Mary’s abbey, for I’ve met Abbot Hugh.’

It occurred to Justin that his life had been much simpler before hisinvolvement with Claudine She was gazing up at him with a worried frownand he smiled reassuringly ‘I promise, love, that you’ll not have to sleep inthe street.’

Some fourteen hours later, though, he was not so sure about that Due toClaudine’s resolve and the lingering daylight of high summer, they hadreached Oxford by dusk The Wednesday market was just breaking up andthe streets were still crowded around the Carfax, the city’s ancient crossroads.Leaving Claudine with their horses, Justin went in search of the closest inn

As Oxford was a prosperous town with more than five thousand citizens and

a thriving university community, he was taken aback to be told there werenone Making his way back to Claudine, he realized how easily he’d beenspoiled by living in London, honeycombed with inns, cookshops, taverns andalehouses, and marvelled anew at the vast changes his life had undergonesince that December night when he’d finally learned the truth about hispaternity

Not the least of those changes was waiting for him in the churchyard of StMichael’s Claudine was attracting more than her share of attention, for shewas fair to look upon, fashionably dressed, obviously a gentlewoman Sheusually enjoyed creating a stir, but now she seemed oblivious to the admiringglances being cast her way Her face was pallid, her exhaustion evident in thedrooping eyelids, downturned mouth and dejected slump of her shoulders.She managed a wan smile, as Justin drew near, even a small, irreverent joke

‘Please do not tell me there is no room at the inn.’

‘Worse than that, love There is no inn at all, just lodgings for studentsfrom the university.’

Claudine groaned ‘Oh, no Now what? I seem to remember a nunneryhere from a past visit ’

‘I was told it burned in the great fire of three years ago But I have found

us a bed for the night, Claudine A family on Catte Street has agreed to take

us in – for a generous sum, of course.’

Claudine opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it Justin couldguess what she’d been about to say The high-born did not take shelter at innswhen they travelled While monastery guest halls were always open to

wayfarers and pilgrims, those of Claudine’s class were accorded specialstatus, often the honoured guests of the abbot himself If not an abbey orpriory, there was usually a castle in the vicinity, and a welcome assuredwhether the castellan was known to them or not, for rank and blood were thekeys to the kingdom So Claudine was not troubled at the prospect of lodgingunder the roof of strangers – provided that they were of the gentry.

Justin came from a different world Neither fish nor fowl, he thoughtsometimes, for the mother he’d never known had been a vulnerable villagegirl and his high-flying hawk of a father would be a prince of the Church.There was a certain security in knowing one’s place in the natural order ofthings, none in balancing precariously upon the sword’s edge But Justin’sdubious birthright gave him one advantage He was bilingual, both literallyand figuratively, in the Norman-French of the Conquest and the English ofthe conquered

He proved that now by the ease with which he assuaged Claudine’squalms, volunteering that Benet Kepeharm, their host, was kin to JohnKepeharm, Oxford’s current alderman, and that he had gone ahead to preparehis household for their arrival Reassured that she’d be dealing with people ofproperty, Claudine let Justin assist her back into the saddle

The Kepeharms’ residence on Catte Street looked like all of its neighbours:timber-framed, slate-roofed, fronting on to the street, and abutting the houses

on either side The interior chamber was where the family ate, worked,played and slept, with a screened-off bed for Benet and his wife at one end,pallets for their children and maidservant at the other, and trestle table,benches and coffers squeezed between the sleeping spaces Justin could seethe pride the Kepeharms had in their home: it glowed in their faces as theyushered their guests inside But he knew, too, how shabby their prizedpossessions must look to Claudine, a child of privilege reared in palaces, and

he felt again a sense of surprise that this woman could have become hisbedmate

Because it was a Wednesday fast day, they had a supper of baked lampreyeels, cabbage soup, and stewed pears, washed down with a red wineflavoured with ginger and sweetened with honey Benet and his wife insistedthat their guests sleep in their own bed Lacking a pillow, Claudine cradledher head in the crook of Justin’s shoulder and apologized drowsily for herexhaustion, for they both knew this might be their last chance forlovemaking Godstow’s nunnery awaited them on the morrow

This was only the fourth time that they’d passed the entire night together –their liaisons had previously been catch-as-catch-can Listening to the soft,even sounds of Claudine’s breathing, Justin recalled them, one by one Theirfirst night had been in a London inn The second was when she’d arrived,drenched and shivering, at his cottage and blurted out that she was with child.And then these two nights on the road Four nights and a handful of stolenafternoons, no more than that He was almost asleep when the thought came

to him, unwelcome and unbidden Their night in that inn had been Claudine’sdoing She’d admitted that she knew little of inns, so how had she known ofthis one? From John?

Justin did not want to go down that road again It served for naught Heknew Claudine had been John’s spy He did not know if she’d been hisconcubine, too In truth, he did not want to know He looked down at thewoman asleep beside him, letting his hand rest upon the rounded curve of herbelly God help him, he never wanted to know

A sudden rainstorm had drenched London at midday, but the sun soon blazedthrough the clouds again and by dusk the city was sweltering in humidAugust heat Aldred was parched by the time he reached Gracechurch Street,his open, freckled face streaked with sweat, his cap of untidy yellow hairplastered damply against his scalp He was already tasting one of Nell’s ales,but he was a polite youth and paused to exchange greetings with passers-by

It was well known in the neighbourhood that he worked for Jonas, thelaconic, one-eyed sergeant who struck fear into the good and the godlessalike After joking briefly with Odo the barber, Aldred waved at the manstanding across the street in the door of his smithy ‘Gunter!’ The blacksmithwaved back, but by then Aldred had ducked into the alehouse

He halted, blinking, until his eyes had adjusted to the shadows It was morecrowded than he’d expected for Vespers had not yet rung Customersclustered round the rickety wooden tables, perched on stools and benches, sat

on upturned empty barrels, voices pitched loud to be heard above the din.Most were men, although a few local women were happy to gossip and drink

in a place where they could feel comfortable and safe In the midst of thischaos was Nell, looking more harried than usual, pouring ale and scoldingher helper, Ellis, for being a laggard and slapping away hands if they weretoo familiar as she squeezed past

Aldred found a spot for himself, and when Nell noticed him, he held up

two fingers, hoping she’d be tempted to take a break and have an ale withhim He’d always assumed that any woman managing an alehouse wouldhave to be a hag, ugly as sin and as strapping and hulking as a Kentishquarryman But Nell was a little bit of a lass, not even reaching his shoulder,with curly flaxen hair that was always escaping the constraints of her veil, aripe, pouting mouth, and eyes as blue as a harvest sky Aldred’s shy courtshiphad not progressed very far: he suspected that Nell dismissed him as a greencountry lad, even though he’d lived in London for nigh on two years andproudly bore a scar on his throat from the blade of the notorious Gilbert theFleming.

Eventually Nell made her way over and Aldred’s hopes rose at the sight oftwo tankards of ale ‘Move yourself, Firmin,’ she directed, and a manobediently slid down the bench, allowing her to sit next to Aldred

‘Lord have mercy, what a day ’ She drank, sighed, drank again ‘I vow,Aldred, I’ve been on the run since daybreak, with nary a chance to catch mybreath First my Lucy was chasing about with that mad dog of Justin’s andshe tripped, scraping her knees and getting blood all over her skirt Whilst Iwas getting her cleaned up, the sausages I was frying burnt to cinders ThenHardwin finally came to whitewash the walls, after promising and putting meoff for nigh on a month So what happened next? Look for yourself,’ she said,pointing towards a patch of brightness, an island in a sea of smoke-smudged,murky grime ‘He mixed the lime and salt with water, painted that bit of thewall, and then told Ellis he was off to the cookshop for his supper That washours ago! I’ll wager he’s not coming back tonight, and all I’ve got to showfor his day’s work is one half-done wall, a lot of clutter, and that trough overthere slopping whitewash! Ellis already put his foot in one of the buckets,damned near broke his leg When I catch Hardwin, I’ll make him rue the day

he was ever born!’

Aldred did not doubt it: Nell’s temper was legendary on GracechurchStreet ‘You know how painters and carpenters and their ilk are,’ he saidsympathetically ‘If you are fool enough to give them their money ere the job

is done, they’re off in a puff of smoke –’ He realized that he’d justinadvertently insulted Nell, and said hastily, ‘Is Jonas here yet? He told me tomeet him at Vespers He and Justin have been chasing their tails all overLondon, trying to track down those rumours about some of the sheriff’s menkeeping a portion of the ransom for themselves.’

In his eagerness to distract Nell from his gaffe, he was being very

indiscreet Normally Nell would have seized upon this intriguing bit ofgossip, but she was only half listening to him, her eyes narrowing upon acorner table ‘I cannot believe it,’ she muttered ‘Now that knave is harryingpoor Leofric!’

Following her gaze, Aldred did not see why she was so vexed The object

of her anger seemed to be a stranger of thirty or so, well dressed in a stalkedcap and bright blue tunic, long legs stretched out in front of him, revealingleather ankle boots that Aldred would have loved to own Several men wereseated at the table and he glanced back at Nell ‘Which one is Leofric?’

‘The lad in the short tunic with the ripped sleeve,’ she said, gesturing at alanky redhead ‘That lout has been hanging around all day, goading othersinto dicing or arm-wrestling with him, for a wager, of course When menbalk, he shames them into it and always wins I’m sure he is cheatingsomehow I knew he was a wrong one the first time I laid eyes on him Iwarned him to let Leofric be, too!’

Aldred found himself begrudging Leofric the warmth in Nell’s voice ‘Is

he mute that he cannot speak up for himself?’ he asked, unable to keep anedge from his tone

Fortunately for him, Nell didn’t notice ‘Leofric is a good lad, but he isslow-witted When he first started coming in, some of the others made sport

of him till I put a stop to it He never causes trouble, just drinks his ale andsmiles when spoken to He helps out at the butcher’s and has a few pence tospend, so I suppose that makes him fair game to that two-legged snake.’

Embarrassed by his jealousy, Aldred sought to redeem himself in Nell’seyes by offering to arm-wrestle the ‘snake’ himself ‘I do not like to boast,but I’ve won more than my share of bouts I’ll be right glad to teach him alesson for you, Mistress Nell.’

His effort was wasted, though, for Nell had turned aside to confer withEllis Setting down her ale, she rose reluctantly to her feet ‘I’ll be back,’ shesaid ‘Ellis says one of the barrels has sprung a leak.’

When she returned, there was a crowd round Leofric’s table Aldred wasstanding nearby, looking indignant, and immediately pushed his way towardsher ‘He prodded the lad into wrestling But then he said they ought to make

it ‘interesting’, and he put a candle on the table so the loser would get burnt!’Nell shoved and squirmed her way through the circle of spectators Beads

of sweat had broken out on Leofric’s forehead and his knuckles were white in the other man’s grip But try as he might, his arm was slowly being

bone-forced towards that flickering candle Wincing as the yellow flame licked athis skin, he looked up at Nell with such bewilderment that she felt a surge ofoutrage Reaching for a tankard on the table, she knocked it over on to thecandle, soaking the sleeves of both men with ale.

‘How clumsy of me,’ she said, as evenly as her anger would allow Shelooked toward Ellis, signalling for a refill as the best way to ease the tension.But the gambler gave her no chance ‘You stupid jade! This is Flemishwool!’ Glaring at Nell, he brandished the wet blotch on his sleeve as if itwere a wound ‘If the fuller cannot get the stain out, you’ll owe me for a newtunic.’ As she started to speak, he cut her off with an imperious gesture ‘Iwant no apologies, woman, not from the likes of you Just get me anotherdrink – and get it now.’

Colour flooded Nell’s face ‘You want an ale, do you?’ She spun roundand snatched a tankard from the closest table ‘Here you are,’ she said, andswiftly upended it over his head

He sprang to his feet, sputtering oaths, and lunged for her But she’dalready darted out of reach, putting the table between them ‘Low-bornbitch!’ He started for her again, only to be brought up short when Aldred andEllis blocked his way His curses spilling over on to them, he raged foranother moment or so before he became aware of the silence He glancedover his shoulder and discovered that he was surrounded by a half-dozenmen ‘This is none of your concern!’

‘Ah, but it is,’ one of his adversaries explained ‘We look after our ownhere.’

His eyes slid from one face to another and then he began to back slowlyaway The men followed

It had been a long day, and Jonas and Justin’s steps were flagging as theyturned on to Gracechurch Street, trailed by Shadow, Justin’s panting blackdog They’d covered at least ten miles since that morning, all of it on foot, forseasoned Londoners knew better than to brave the crowded city streets onhorseback when they had many stops to make

‘I never thought I’d miss chasing after thieves and cutthroats,’ Jonas saidtiredly ‘But they’re easier prey, for certes Hunt them down, catch them,hang them and forget them.’

‘Well, at least we disproved the rumour.’ Justin smothered a yawn with hisfist ‘I can now assure the queen that the coffer from the nunnery at

Clerkenwell arrived intact and the seal was not tampered with.’

‘This time,’ Jonas amended ‘I daresay the money being collected inLondon is reaching the crypt at St Paul’s safely There are too many eyeswatching for it here But there are a lot of lonely roads, moors and deepwoods in the realm.’

Justin nodded sombrely ‘Outlaws will be swarming like honey-bees.’Jonas almost smiled ‘So will sheriffs, bailiffs, aldermen and their saintedgrandmothers, de Quincy.’

Justin hoped Jonas was wrong It was disheartening to believe thatcorruption was so contagious And it would make his task all the moredifficult: he knew the queen would want every last halfpenny accounted for.The ransom demanded for King Richard was staggering, one hundredthousand silver marks, and no one was exempt Churches, monasteries,towns, guilds and subjects of the king were all expected to contribute a fourth

of their year’s income Was Richard worth such a vast sum? That was aquestion Justin had never thought to ask For him, it was enough that hisqueen thought so

They had just reached the alehouse when the door flew open and a ghostlyapparition stumbled out He was coated in whitewash: it dripped from his hairand squished out of his boots, splattering the ground with his every stride.Justin and Jonas, with fine teamwork, veered off to either side, letting himsplash between them As they watched, he ran across the street and dived intothe horse trough in front of the smithy

The noise coming from the alehouse was loud and raucous But silence fell

at the sight of the sheriff’s sergeant and the queen’s man Jonas’s gaze movedslowly over the crowd before it settled on Aldred and Nell Aldred flushedand tried to edge away Nell stood her ground and shook her head when Jonasasked, ‘Is this something I should know about?’

‘No,’ she replied

He nodded ‘Good,’ he said, and entered the alehouse, carefully steppingover a puddle of whitewash in the doorway Justin followed him in towards atable that had suddenly become free: people tended to give Jonas space.Aldred soon sidled over and sat down After a few moments, Nell joinedthem with a tray of ale She pulled up a stool for herself and smiled brightly

‘So did you have any luck with your ransom hunt?’

‘I see Aldred has been babbling again,’ Jonas said, sounding more resignedthan irked

Aldred squirmed, then seized his chance to deflect attention from his latestlapse ‘Look, Justin, your landlord is here.’

Justin turned to see Gunter entering the alehouse He didn’t think of theblacksmith in those terms, but he supposed Aldred was right: he did rentGunter’s cottage Half rising, he beckoned to attract Gunter’s eye, and Nelland Aldred moved over to make room for him at their table Gunter did notsit down, though

‘The queen sent a messenger to your cottage this afternoon, Justin Shewants to see you straight away.’

Justin was ushered at once into the queen’s private chamber at Westminster:her household knew that he was one of her agents, one of those mysteriousmen who came and went at odd hours on covert missions better left to theimagination Eleanor was dictating a letter to St Martial’s Abbey in Limoges.Justin heard enough to recognize it as a personal appeal to the abbot,requesting a hundred marks for Richard’s ransom He knew Limoges was inher overseas domain and he was interested, but not at all surprised, to learnthat she was exacting payment from Aquitaine as well as England He did notdoubt that, if she could, she’d have squeezed money from the Holy See

Eleanor glanced up as Justin entered and knelt at her feet, then gestured toher scribe, who gathered up his writing utensils She also dismissed her otherattendants, an indication that she had a highly confidential matter to discuss.That was usually the case: all the services Justin had performed for the queenwere related, directly or indirectly, to thwarting John’s schemes while stillprotecting him from his own folly

Eleanor was in remarkable health for a woman of seventy-one years Thepast seven months had taken their toll, though, as she’d first feared that herbest-loved son was dead, only to learn that he was being held hostage inGermany by the Emperor Heinrich, an enemy who hated him as much asPhilippe, the French king, did Fatigue, dread and uncertainty had carved newfurrows in her face, etched wrinkles round her eyes that none would ever call

‘laugh lines’ This night she appeared exhausted, so pale and careworn thatJustin felt a pang of alarm: he was not accustomed to seeing her look sovulnerable

Eleanor signalled for him to rise, and when she spoke, her voice sounded

as it always did, well modulated and deliberative, resonating with theauthority she’d wielded for much of her lifetime ‘I have a question to put to

you, Justin You grew up in the Marches, so I assume you are more familiarthan most with the region and its labyrinthine politics.’

Justin wasn’t sure what ‘labyrinthine’ meant, but he nodded, somewhatwarily ‘Yes, Madam I know Shrewsbury well, Chester even better.’

‘You understand English and read Latin, so you seem to have an ear forlanguages What about Welsh?’

‘I am by no means fluent, my lady, but yes, I do have some grasp of it Ipicked up a little as a lad, and whilst I was in Lord FitzAlan’s service Ilearned more from another of his squires, who was half Welsh.’

‘Make ready,’ she said, ‘to leave for Wales on the morrow Money meantfor the king’s ransom has gone missing.’ She turned and rifled through a pile

of parchments on the table until she found the one she wanted ‘This is aletter from the Welsh prince Davydd ab Owain The ransom he’d collectedfor Richard was stolen by a Welsh rebel.’

The name was vaguely familiar to Justin and, after a moment, the memorycame into focus Davydd ab Owain was a prince of North Wales, long alliedwith the English Crown ‘What more can you tell me, Madam?’

‘Unfortunately, not much When I referred to “money” earlier, I was usingthe term loosely The Welsh princes do not mint their own so the bulk of theransom was wool from the Cistercian abbeys, although there were some coinsand silver plate and jewellery, mayhap furs, too Davydd says he’d sent itunder guard to Chester, but it was ambushed by an outlaw named ’ Sheglanced briefly at the letter ‘ Llewelyn ab Iorwerth The guards were slainand the ransom stolen Needless to say, I want it back It will be a God-givenmiracle if we can raise all the money demanded by that hellspawn Heinrich I

am not about to let Welsh brigands ruin Richard’s chance of release.’

‘You call this man an “outlaw” and a “rebel” Which is he, Madam?’

‘According to Davydd, both He is kin to Davydd – the Welsh are allinbred – and he has been trying to stir up rebellion, without much success.But he makes do with robbery, thieving and extortion Here, read the letterfor yourself.’

Justin moved towards the closest light, a sputtering cresset lamp ‘Davydd

is rather sparing with details This letter tells us little.’

‘You noticed that, too,’ she said drily ‘His overriding concern seems to beescaping any blame for this disaster, which is all I’d expect from the man.’

‘Have you met Davydd, Madam?’

The corner of Eleanor’s mouth curved ‘Met him? I’m related to him,

Justin.’ She did smile then at his look of surprise ‘Davydd ab Owain is mybrother by marriage He is wed to my husband’s sister Emma.’

Justin blinked ‘I thought King Henry had two brothers I remembernothing of a sister ’

‘Emma is Harry’s half-sister, one of Geoffrey of Anjou’s bastards Davyddpressed hard for the marriage and because Harry needed Welsh support at thetime, he agreed, albeit reluctantly But he never thought highly of Davydd.Nor did Emma Or so I’ve been told,’ she added, an ironic aside so obliquethat it was a moment before Justin realized this was an indirect reference toher imprisonment: at the time of Davydd’s marriage to the Lady Emma,Eleanor was far from court, held prisoner in a remote castle of her husband’schoosing

Reading the letter a second time, Justin could not help thinking that thismight be the most challenging assignment Eleanor had ever given him ‘Whatwould you have me do first, Madam?’

‘The Earl of Chester will be your most useful ally If you need men, he’llprovide them The bishop may be of some help, too, for he knows Davyddand Emma well Go first to Chester, see the earl and the bishop And thenyou’ll have to seek out Davydd in Wales He keeps his court at RhuddlanCastle.’

Justin was no longer listening She’d lost him from the moment she’dmentioned the Bishop of Chester He stared at her, incredulous Surely shecould not have forgotten that Aubrey de Quincy was his father? Unless unless this was a stratagem, a means to bring them together?

‘My lady queen, I ’ He paused, not knowing what to say But as his eyeslocked with hers, he saw the truth She had not forgotten Nor was sheseeking to arrange a reconciliation She knew how loath he was to see hisfather It did not matter Nothing mattered but Richard and the recovery ofthe ransom

III

August 1193

Chester, England

The Bishop of Chester’s palace was located south-east of the city, justbeyond the ancient Roman walls, adjacent to the cathedral church of St John.Justin drew rein at the sight of the gatehouse, not moving until his stallionbegan to fidget Several months ago, he’d had to enter a lazar hospital insearch of a killer With some of the same dread that he’d felt at facing thelepers, he urged his mount forward into the precincts of his father’s domain

He was dismounting at the stables when he heard his name called Handingthe reins to a waiting groom, he turned to greet Martin, the bishop’s steward.Martin’s face was creased in a delighted smile, and Justin smiled back Atleast there was one soul here who was pleased to see him

‘Justin, I cannot tell you how much the sight of you gladdens my eyes.When you rode away last December, it was as if you’d vanished from theearth I have often wondered where you were, how you were faring.’

Justin felt a dart of guilt that it had not occurred to him to let Martin knowhe’d landed on his feet He owed the man better than that: his father’ssteward had always treated him with great kindness, almost as if he suspectedthe truth about Justin’s identity

‘I ought to have written to you, Martin, and I am sorry I did not I shouldhave known that the bishop would not have told you he’d encountered me

in London after Whitsuntide I hope we can find time to talk later for I’d likenothing better than to buy you some ale But right now I need to see thebishop.’

Martin’s face shadowed His obvious dismay confirmed Justin’s suspicions– that Martin knew he was the bishop’s son ‘You need not worry, Martin I

am not here to stir up trouble The bishop will see me, for I am bearing aletter from the queen.’

Aubrey de Quincy had taken Eleanor’s letter to the open window, and as heread, the afternoon sun glistened upon the silvered strands at his temples.Justin hadn’t realized he was going so grey, for it was usually disguised bythe fairness of his hair Justin’s own colouring was dark and, try though hemight, he could see nothing of himself in the man by the window He

supposed his black hair must have come from his mother, though it was notlikely that he’d ever know for sure He had no memories of her, nothing butthe gossip of an old woman who’d been the refectory cook in his father’sparish He’d never even been told her name.

Aubrey was taking a long time to read a brief letter and Justin wondered if

he felt the same unease, the same desire to be elsewhere, to be anywhere butthe bishop’s palace at Chester The last time they’d spoken, it had endedbadly, with his father angrily warning him to keep silent and he hitting backwith the only weapon at hand: he had told Aubrey that Queen Eleanor alreadyknew the truth Justin knew the queen’s letter made use of the surname hehad no legal right to claim, for she’d shown it to him before sealing it Heimagined the words ‘Justin de Quincy’ must have leaped off the parchment athis father: had he taken it as a royal threat? A reminder that the queen knewthe secret he’d sought to hide for so long?

When Aubrey at last looked up, it was with a smile that was as fleeting as

it was forced ‘Well, the queen must have great faith in you, Justin, to entrust

a matter of such importance to you.’

It had not sounded like a compliment – there was too much surprise in hisfather’s tone for that – and Justin acknowledged it with a shrug ‘It is not as if

I am expected to find the missing ransom all by myself I can rely upon theEarl of Chester for whatever help I need And Davydd ab Owain, too Idaresay no one is more eager to retrieve the ransom than he is.’

Aubrey nodded ‘Yes Davydd must be in a frenzy, and he has never beenknown for a serene, steadfast nature in the best of times.’

This was an ideal opening and Justin was grateful for it: he much preferred

to confine their conversation to the facts of the robbery and he suspected thathis father did, too ‘The queen told me that you know both Davydd and hiswife, the Lady Emma What can you tell me about him?’

‘Davydd’s father was a remarkable man, a great prince Davydd is neither.’

It was a harsh assessment, but Justin knew that his father was not a man tomake allowances for human frailty, even his own ‘What else?’

Aubrey gestured towards a carved wooden bench and they both sat,somewhat awkwardly ‘I suppose you ought to know the manner of manyou’ll be dealing with Davydd has ruled Gwynedd east of the River Conwyfor the past twenty or so years After his father’s death, Davydd and hisyounger brother, Rhodri, banded together and ambushed their half-brotherHywel, the heir-apparent Hywel was slain – a pity, for he was a fine poet

Davydd and Rhodri soon turned on each other and, for a brief time, Davyddruled all of Gwynedd These days, he divides his time between his castle atRhuddlan and his manors in Shropshire.’

Justin’s eyebrows rose ‘A Welsh prince dwelling in England?’

‘I imagine his wife prefers Shropshire to Wales How could she not? ButDavydd also sets great store by his ties to the English Crown He is KingRichard’s uncle, if only by marriage, and rarely misses an opportunity toboast of it.’

‘You do not like him much,’ Justin observed

Aubrey’s mouth quirked ‘Few do,’ he said drily ‘Davydd does not holdthe hearts of his people in the palm of his hand He is a man of mediocreabilities who has been blessed with good luck, high birth, and a very beautifulwife.’

Justin was remembering what he’d been told, that Emma was theillegitimate daughter of Count Geoffrey of Anjou Geoffrey had been deadfor many years, so Emma must be well past her youth ‘You mean she wasonce a beauty?’

‘Was and is,’ Aubrey said, faintly amused by Justin’s polite attempt todisguise his disbelief ‘She is a year or two past her fourth decade, whichdoubtless sounds as old as Methuselah to a lad of twenty But trust me in this,Justin Emma of Anjou is still a beautiful woman.’

Justin was surprised, both that his father had remembered his age and that

he spoke so warmly of the Lady Emma ‘What can you tell me of hermarriage?’ he asked, suddenly curious to see Davydd’s wife for himself

‘They’ve been wed for nigh on twenty years, have a son and a daughter if

my memory serves I first met her some years ago in Shropshire, ere I wasmade an archdeacon I found her to be a lady of grace and piety and dignity Itrust you will bear that in mind during this investigation of yours, Justin.’

‘I will do my best not to shame you,’ Justin said He saw the musclesclench along his father’s jaw and regretted his rash words He rose and bentdutifully over the bishop’s ring ‘I thank you for sharing your thoughts withme.’

Aubrey rose, too ‘I assume you will go now to see the Earl of Chester?’When Justin nodded, Aubrey’s eyes narrowed and his voice iced over: ‘Youhave been taking a great liberty in making use of the de Quincy name Thatyou do this with the queen’s approval does not make it right I shall expectyou to conduct yourself with decorum and discretion whilst you are in

Justin was becoming accustomed to paternal threats, but if they did notintimidate, they still stung ‘My lord bishop,’ he said, with such mockingdeference that his father made an angry gesture of dismissal They glared ateach other and, had they but known it, in that moment they did indeed lookalike

The queen’s letter gave Justin the same swift admittance to Chester Castle as

it had to the bishop’s palace Ranulf de Blundeville, Earl of Chester, greetedhim in the great hall, but after reading Eleanor’s message, he led Justinabove-stairs to his solar He did not offer wine or ale, but Justin took nooffence, sure that Chester’s omission was not deliberate rudeness Those whoknew the earl were aware that he was single-minded to a fault, a man whofocused upon the most pressing problem to the exclusion of all else WhileJustin had never formally met him before, he was well acquainted with thegossip that inevitably swirled round a man of such prominence Chesterprided himself upon being blunt-spoken and forthright, which occasionallycaused the cynical to brand him nạve or credulous Justin knew better, forEleanor had warned him not to undervalue the earl’s discerning eye If thequeen respected Chester’s mother wit, that was more than enough for thequeen’s man

Chester put aside Eleanor’s letter and studied Justin through hooded darkeyes It was a challenging look, even antagonistic Justin had expected asmuch The Earl of Chester was a great lord, cousin to the king, wed to aneven greater heiress, Constance of Brittany, widow of Richard’s brotherGeoffrey, mother of Arthur, Geoffrey’s young heir As stepfather of the Duke

of Brittany, Chester was sure to exercise influence in the boy’s domains:Arthur would not reach his majority for many years And there was alwaysthe chance that Chester might find himself the stepfather of a king Richardhad sired no sons with his Spanish queen, and he was not a man likely to diepeacefully in bed If he died without an heir, some would argue that hisbrother Geoffrey’s son, Arthur, had a better claim to the English throne thanthe youngest brother, John

Whatever Arthur’s prospects of outwitting or outrunning John in a race forthe Crown, there was no denying that the Earl of Chester wielded vast andprofound powers Justin had assumed that he would be jealous of hisauthority, even with one of Queen Eleanor’s agents But however much he

might have preferred to keep control of the investigation in his own hands, hewould co-operate, for he was not a fool If the ransom were not recovered,Chester and Davydd ab Owain would both be blamed by the irate queen andfrantic mother.

Chester’s first question showed that Eleanor’s confidence in his intellectwas not misplaced ‘I would like,’ he said, ‘to know exactly what Davydd abOwain told the queen’s grace.’

‘We thought you would,’ Justin acknowledged, and held out a secondparchment ‘This is a copy of the letter he wrote to Queen Eleanor, informingher that the ransom had been stolen on its way to Chester.’

Justin waited while the earl read, and was amused when Chester echoed hisown words almost exactly, saying brusquely that Davydd had been miserlywith the details of the ambush ‘Fortunately, one of my knights was inGwynedd, helping with the collection of the ransom, and he was able to give

me a more thorough account of the crime.’

This was the first piece of good news Justin had heard ‘Was your manpresent at the ambush, my lord?’

‘Luckily for him, no There was but one survivor and I’m told he was notexpected to live Thomas was at Rhuddlan Castle, though, and so he hassome useful information for you Davydd ab Owain has good reason to beclose-mouthed Had I blundered as badly as he did, I’d be loath to share myshame with the world, too.’

Justin was not surprised that Chester was eager to lay blame at Davydd’sdoor Marcher lords and their Welsh counterparts were natural rivals, for theborders were writ in sand, shifting or expanding as ambitious men jockeyedfor advantage ‘I would be most interested in hearing of these blunders, mylord To judge by the prince’s letter to my lady queen, all the guilt belongs tothat Welsh bandit, who is apparently a kinsman of some sort.’

‘A kinsman of some sort?’ Chester echoed, so sarcastically that Justintensed ‘You are not very well informed, are you, Master de Quincy? If you

do not even know the players in this infernal game, how likely are you tocome out as the winner? Llewelyn ab Iorwerth is no fourth cousin by blood

or distant kin by marriage Nor can he be dismissed as a “Welsh bandit” He

is Davydd’s nephew and in the eyes of Holy Church, he has a better claim tothe crown than his usurping uncle, for he was begotten in lawful marriageand Davydd was born in sin.’

Justin was angry at the injustice of Chester’s rebuke: this was why he’d